“They saw their injured country's woe;
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear, - but left the shield.”
About a maid I'll sing a song Sing rickety-tickety-tin About a maid I'll sing a song Who didn't have her family long Not only did she do them wrong She did ev'ryone of them in, them in She did ev'ryone of them in
One morning in a fit of pique Sing rickety-tickety-tin One morning in a fit of pique She drowned her father in the creek The water tasted bad for a week And we had to make do with gin, with gin We had to make do with gin
Her mother she could never stand Sing rickety-tickety-tin Her mother she could never stand And so a cyanide soup she planned The lady died with a spoon in her hand And her face in a hideous grin, a grin Her face in a hideous grin
She set her sister's hair on fire Sing rickety-tickety-tin She set her sister's hair on fire And as the smoke and flame rose high'are Danced around the funeral pyre Playin' a violin, -olin Playin' a violin
She weighted her brother down with stones Rickety-tickety-tin She weighted her brother down with stones And sent him off to davy jones All they ever found were some bones And occasional pieces of skin, of skin Occasional pieces of skin
One day when she had nothing to do Sing rickety-tickety-tin One day when she had nothing to do She cut her baby brother in two And served him up as an irish stew And invited the neighbors in, them in Invited the neighbors in
And when at last the police came by Sing rickety-tickety-tin And when at last the police came by Her little pranks she did not deny To do so she would have had to lie And lying, she knew, was a sin, a sin Lying, she knew, was a sin
My tragic tale, I won't prolong Sing rickety-tickety-tin My tragic tale I won't prolong And if you don't enjoy the song Blame yourselves if you think it's too long You should never have let me begin, begin You should never have let me begin.
Teacher of the Christian faith of old, Once a boy in Britain, then a priest, Stuff of myth and legend you were sold As chattel into Ireland where you ceased In slavery your native pagan ways. Needing help you found, while tending sheep, The Master Shepherd, who then filled your days Plenteously with zeal that spoiled your sleep. A fierce determination to convert The Irish to the way of Christ, the King Resolved the old religion to subvert Instilling awe which steeple bells still ring. Christian rites set Gaelic hearts ablaze Kindled by a man of English ways.
___ THE IRISH BALLAD ___
ReplyDeleteAbout a maid I'll sing a song
Sing rickety-tickety-tin
About a maid I'll sing a song
Who didn't have her family long
Not only did she do them wrong
She did ev'ryone of them in, them in
She did ev'ryone of them in
One morning in a fit of pique
Sing rickety-tickety-tin
One morning in a fit of pique
She drowned her father in the creek
The water tasted bad for a week
And we had to make do with gin, with gin
We had to make do with gin
Her mother she could never stand
Sing rickety-tickety-tin
Her mother she could never stand
And so a cyanide soup she planned
The lady died with a spoon in her hand
And her face in a hideous grin, a grin
Her face in a hideous grin
She set her sister's hair on fire
Sing rickety-tickety-tin
She set her sister's hair on fire
And as the smoke and flame rose high'are
Danced around the funeral pyre
Playin' a violin, -olin
Playin' a violin
She weighted her brother down with stones
Rickety-tickety-tin
She weighted her brother down with stones
And sent him off to davy jones
All they ever found were some bones
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin
Occasional pieces of skin
One day when she had nothing to do
Sing rickety-tickety-tin
One day when she had nothing to do
She cut her baby brother in two
And served him up as an irish stew
And invited the neighbors in, them in
Invited the neighbors in
And when at last the police came by
Sing rickety-tickety-tin
And when at last the police came by
Her little pranks she did not deny
To do so she would have had to lie
And lying, she knew, was a sin, a sin
Lying, she knew, was a sin
My tragic tale, I won't prolong
Sing rickety-tickety-tin
My tragic tale I won't prolong
And if you don't enjoy the song
Blame yourselves if you think it's too long
You should never have let me begin, begin
You should never have let me begin.
~ Tom Lehrer
________ To Saint Patrick ________
ReplyDeleteTeacher of the Christian faith of old,
Once a boy in Britain, then a priest,
Stuff of myth and legend you were sold
As chattel into Ireland where you ceased
In slavery your native pagan ways.
Needing help you found, while tending sheep,
The Master Shepherd, who then filled your days
Plenteously with zeal that spoiled your sleep.
A fierce determination to convert
The Irish to the way of Christ, the King
Resolved the old religion to subvert
Instilling awe which steeple bells still ring.
Christian rites set Gaelic hearts ablaze
Kindled by a man of English ways.
~ FreeThnke -The Sandiper
:)
ReplyDeleteEXTRA! EXTA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!
ReplyDeleteSESSIONS FIRES ANDREW McCABE BEFORE HE CAN RETIRE
https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/justice-department/sessions-fires-mccabe-he-can-retire-n856751
HALLELUJAH!
HALLELUJAH!
HALLELUJAH!
Jeff Sessions FINALLY grew a pair!
HALLELUJAH!
Consequences for malfeasance? Unheard of! :)
ReplyDeleteFJ...Consequences...there's a new word for the American gov't lexicon!!
ReplyDeleteHAPPY ST PAT'S DAY! To you and FT :-)
Thanks, Z! Happy St. Patty's to you!
ReplyDelete